


Happy Birthday, Dear Clint!

by sharkie335



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: And bisexual, Background Pepper/Tony, Clint does everyone, F/M, Is what I'm saying, M/M, Multi, There's a lot of sex, background Bruce/Natasha - Freeform, background Pepper/Tony/Rhodey (implied), background Steve/Sam, background Steve/Sam/Bucky, everyone is polyamorous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-10 07:11:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4382225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint has never had a birthday party.  Tony and the rest of the Avengers plan to change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Dear Clint!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gblvr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gblvr/gifts).



> When I Started: February of 2014, based on a prompt from gblvr  
> How I Lost My Shit: Writer’s block from hell, along with being extremely busy at work and unable to focus when home.  
> How I Finished My Shit: I sat down, shut up, and got my fingers busy!  
> Thanks: Thanks to lotrspnfangirl for the thorough beta reading, and to shaenie for the cheerleading.
> 
> Artwork by Auntiedragon and will be linked when it's up.
> 
> This story contains an orgy where Clint gets it on with everyone in a group setting, but the tag was too long for the system to handle!

“What do you mean, Clint’s never had a birthday party? _Everyone_ has had one, at least when they were little,” Tony said to Phil.

“Give me a break.” Phil took a sip of his coffee. He still didn’t know what Tony had altered in the coffee machine so that it made the best damn stuff he’d ever had, but he wasn’t going to argue - it was miles above and beyond what the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. had to drink. “I know you’ve hacked everyone’s records, and while most of his childhood isn’t on anything networked, you’re not stupid. You can guess what it must have been like.”

“But- but-“ Tony visibly fumbled for words. “He never... not even as a kid?”

“No. Now, is there a reason you’re here quizzing me on what kind of party Clint likes?”

“Well, I know he has a birthday coming up, and we’ve had parties for everyone else, so I was trying to get a start on planning his.” Tony’s voice was full of attitude, but the hangdog expression on his face spoke volumes. He still hadn’t gotten over the feeling that he had to buy friendship from the rest of the Avengers. Once again, Phil had to override his desire to dig Howard Stark up and choke him to death.

“Anything you plan is going to be more than he’s ever had,” Phil said gently. “I would suggest that you keep it small, because otherwise he’s going to feel like he’s on a job. A blowout like you threw Pepper is going to make him run screaming into the night.”

Tony nodded. “I kinda figured he wouldn’t want to be the center of attention with that many people. I can do small and understated.”

Phil chuckled. “Tony, you’ve never done anything understated in your life. Now, if that’s enough for you to go on, get out of my office. I have things to do, and since Thor is cooking tonight, I want to get back to the tower on time.”

“You got it.” Tony sketched a salute before slipping out the door. 

Phil sat back in his chair, and looked up at the ceiling. “Are you okay with this?” he asked the tiles. “I can still try to put a stop to it.”

The vent opened and Clint peeked through. “Are you kidding me? I’m so curious as to what Tony considers ‘understated’ that I may have to see if I can get into the workshop to spy on his plans.”

That got a full laugh from Phil. “You’re not upset that I gave away that much of your background?”

Clint shrugged. “I’m pretty sure that the team has put most of it together already. This is just a little more deep background for them. I’ve long since made my peace with the fact that my dad was an asshole.”

“Well, in that case, get out of my ceiling and let me get back to work,” Phil demanded. 

Clint responded, “Yes, sir,” and disappeared from view. But, even after he was gone, Phil continued to smile at the ceiling for a while. It was nice to see that the team was continuing to come together. Besides, he was curious too.

Dinner was a raucous affair, as usual. All the “actual” Avengers were there, as well as Pepper, Jane, Darcy, Bucky, and Phil himself, and there was a lot of laughter and affection shared around the table. Even Natasha, who had been the last of the original Avengers to agree to move in, as well as the most reluctant to bond with the rest of the team, had finally given in and let the team form its ties to her. The only person missing was Rhodey who was currently on a three month assignment to Eglin Air Force Base as an instructor.

Phil knew that most people would consider the living situation in The Avengers’ tower to be unusual. There was a reason that it was considered strictly off limits to outsiders; the casual affection went far beyond a hug or a hand on the arm.

While they were (mostly) paired up - Phil with Clint, Bruce with Natasha, Thor with Jane, Tony with Pepper (and Rhodey when he was there), and Sam with Steve - there was also Darcy, who considered herself a "free agent", and Bucky, who frequently swung through as he tried to adjust to being on his own. There were various bets on when he'd join in with Sam and Steve long term. Phil had a hundred on Christmas. On top of all that, just for variety’s sake, sometimes they switched it up. Those days, you never knew who’d end up in your bed that night.

Tonight, though, Clint was a little clingier than usual, not that most people would be able to tell. The lines around his eyes were cut a little deeper, he ducked away from Steve’s casual head rub, he leaned into Phil as they sat in the living room arguing over what movie to watch, and Phil knew it was because of his conversation with Tony. While Clint claimed to be fine with it, saying that was one thing... living it was another.

After an evening of watching Tony attempt to gross Steve out with the Saw movies, Phil softly turned away the flirtatious attempts from Darcy for a threesome, and Natasha for a foursome, and herded Clint back to their room.

“You okay?” he asked as he pressed Clint back against the wall, kissing him on the neck softly. “You seemed a little off tonight.”

“Just don’t like to think about it,” Clint said with a sigh, tipping his head to give Phil better access. “It’ll be fine, I’ve just got to shake it off.”

“I can still try to rein Tony in,” Phil offered again. He was pretty sure that Tony had spent the afternoon brainstorming with Steve, Sam, and Pepper, but he would manage to pull him back if that’s what Clint needed.

Clint shook his head. “Nah. It’s all good. Let’s just take this to bed, okay?”

“My favorite words,” Phil said with a grin, pulling back and holding out a hand to Clint. They didn’t _do_ stuff like that in public, but this wasn’t public, and Phil was as free to be cheesy as he wanted.

Clint stripped as he walked, dropping his clothes in a path across the floor, and slid up on the bed once he was naked. Phil wanted to be against him with a need that was almost painful, and thankfully he’d already gotten out of today’s suit. His track pants and S.H.I.E.L.D. t-shirt joined Clint’s clothes on the floor before he hopped up and pressed as tight as he could get against Clint’s body.

Wrapped up in each other’s arms and mouths, they kissed hungrily for long minutes until Phil realized that Clint was thrusting mindlessly against his leg, and Phil was grinding against Clint’s hip. “What do you want,” he asked breathlessly. “Just this? Or something more?”

Without a word, Clint rolled them so that he was propped up over Phil. “Can I - “ he started to ask, and Phil spread his legs without a word, making it clear that whatever Clint wanted was just fine with him.

Lunging forward, Clint grabbed the lube and a condom off the nightstand, where they kept them for easy access. He made quick work of opening the package and rolling the condom down his cock. Thoroughly slicking himself, he wiped his hands on the hand towel they kept on the bed for just this reason. Phil realized at that point that Clint was more wound up than he’d thought if he wasn’t even going to bother with the fingers that Phil really didn’t need.

Clint’s hand slid under Phil’s knee, pulling his leg further up and out, while his other hand positioned the head of his cock at Phil’s hole. “Ready?” he asked.

Phil took a deep breath and let it out slowly, nodding. With that, Clint started to push, the head of his cock sliding in slow and steady, opening Phil in all the best ways. Once he was in all the way, Clint paused, letting Phil adjust to being so amazingly full. 

“Come on,” Phil said (he’d never admit it was a whine), “I’m ready for you. Let me have it.”

“You got it,” Clint said, and then his hips started to move. Slowly at first, just a few inches in and out, before it quickly became something more, something harder and faster and more intense that drove the breath out of Phil’s lungs and the thoughts out of his head. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, trying to reach down and grab his cock, but Clint shifted his hands so that Phil’s wrists were pinned to the bed. Phil could have broken the hold - at least he thought he could have - but honestly, why? Instead, he let Clint have his way, pounding into him and focusing on the way his cock slid across Phil’s prostate on every thrust, without the distraction of his own hand on his cock. He didn’t think he could come from this alone, but that didn’t matter. 

What mattered was the pleasure washing across Clint’s face, sweat beading at his hairline, and his breathing harsh in his throat. “God, I love fucking you,” Clint groaned. “Your ass is _perfect_ , made just for me to fuck. Gonna fuck you all night and all day - they’re going to have to pry us apart with a crowbar if there’s a need for avenging.”

Phil squirmed, trying to spread his legs wider, take Clint deeper. In response, Clint let go of his wrists, grabbing him by the hips and tipping him so that they were joined as close as it was possible to get. “Fuck, yeah,” Phil groaned. “You’re so good, Clint. Always so good to me.”

Clint fucked him even harder at that, those words apparently going to the root of what was driving him, and he was slamming into Phil with enough force that he slid up the bed a little with each snap of his hips. His eyes were closed, his face screwed up with more than just the need to come.

Phil ran his hand down Clint’s face, offering comfort without an uncomfortable discussion. After all, there was nothing to say; Clint’s history was what it was. Clint paused and turned his head without opening his eyes, pressing a kiss to Phil’s palm, accepting the silent comfort.

When Clint's eyes opened, they were cloudy with lust but there wasn't any trace of turmoil left on his face. Ironically, it made Phil feel better too, more able to focus on the here and now, rather than Clint's history. He had to clear his throat to get words past the lust choked lump lodged there. "What are you waiting for?" he asked. "Come on and fuck me."

Clint smiled, small and evil, before pulling back slowly and then thrusting forward even slower. "But what if I want to take my time?" he asked, repeating the action. "What if I just want to take things nice and slow?"

"I guess I'd say that - " Phil wrapped his hands around Clint's shoulders, and tightened his legs around his thighs, before rolling them so that he was on top " - I'll just have to take what I need."

Clint looked shocked for a brief moment, before he broke out laughing. The last of the unpleasant tension in the room dissipated as Phil joined in, their laughter clearing the air. When they finally started to get themselves back under something resembling control, Phil raised himself up, before sliding down and taking Clint deep again. "There, that's much better," Phil said, doing it again.

As Phil fucked himself on Clint, Clint gave a groan of deep pleasure. "You're greedy," Clint said. "I like it." 

"When it comes to you, I'm always greedy," Phil agreed. He shifted slightly, leaning forward and bracing himself with his hands on Clint's muscular shoulders. His next rocking motion brought the head of Clint's cock into forceful contact with his prostate and he cried out in pleasure. 

Clint wrapped his hands back around Phil's hips, but made no effort to slow him or control him. Instead, he lifted his own hips, pressing into each of Phil's downward thrusts. They sped up, the only noise in the room being the sounds of skin slapping together and them panting harshly in pleasure and need. 

It only took another dozen thrusts or so before Clint groaned, his hands tightening on Phil as his orgasm rocked him. Even more desperate now, Phil tightened around Clint, trying to hold him deep as he brought one of his hands down to stroke his cock with harsh, quick strokes, trying to push himself over the edge.

When Clint wrapped his hand around Phil's, adding pressure and heat to each stroke, it was enough to get Phil to his orgasm, a long slide into pleasure as he came all over their clasped hands and Clint's belly. Clint gentled their strokes, coaxing Phil through the last of his aftershocks, before he let go.

Boneless, Phil collapsed to the side, wrapping his arms around Clint and holding on tight. He groaned softly and said, "One of these days, you're going to kill me."

Clint turned his head to meet Phil's eyes and then planted a kiss on Phil's nose. "But what a way to go."

All Phil could do was agree.

***

Two weeks passed in a flurry of quiet whispers in the corners of the common room. Clint tried half-heartedly to try to find out what was being said, but the problem with living with people who were spies (Natasha) and paranoid bastards (Tony), they were very good at hiding what they were planning.

Clint could probably have managed to find out, but that would ruin the game. Besides, other than Phil and Natasha, he’d never been friends with anyone who’d worked to keep a birthday surprise from him before and he found that it was kind of enjoyable.

Phil was being kept equally in the dark - what he didn’t know he couldn’t tell, apparently - which meant that Clint could ‘torture’ them both by spinning increasingly outlandish ideas for both of their amusement. The latest version, inspired by the fact that his birthday was only a day away, was that Tony had managed to hire Miley Cyrus and persuade her to jump out of a giant birthday cake.

Phil groaned at the mental image that apparently gave him and slapped Clint gently on the back of the head. “Really, Clint? We’re both old enough to be her father! And now, I will never get that mental image out of my head.”

Clint laughed; he loved it when he managed to get a good reaction from Phil, and this was one of the better ones. “But really, Phil,” he teased. “He might have even managed to convince her to do it naked.”

“And now I will never eat birthday cake again,” Phil said with a sigh. “Is this an effort on your part to keep me in shape?”

“No, I love your shape,” Clint said with a grin, pinching a bit of Phil’s hip. “It’s just the anticipation is killing me.”

“If you don’t stop, you’re going to have to worry about something else killing you,” Phil said. Anyone else might have taken it as a threat; Clint simply saw it as an encouragement to see if he could come up with something even better.

Eventually though, Phil pointed out that if he just waited another day, he’d _know_ what was planned, with an undercurrent that told Clint that Phil really was done with the outrageous guesses. He settled down, knowing that even if he hated it, he’d still love it, because it was the first time anyone had cared enough to try.

Dinner was just the two of them, as Clint knew that he’d go crazy trying to guess again if he saw two of the others whispering. Chinese take out was easy enough to order, and Clint could _always_ eat. After dinner, he edged up on Phil, hoping to get something started, but Phil made a sad face at him and pointed out that the next night he wasn’t going to be able to work at all, so tonight was going to have to be a late work night.

Clint hated the idea of going to bed without Phil but knew that nagging or teasing would just delay him even more, and a sleep-deprived Phil was one that was no fun. So, he showered and turned in, half expecting that his excitement would keep him awake.

He woke briefly when Phil climbed in next to him, but Phil soothed his confusion away and he went back to sleep, content that Phil was where he belonged.

When the alarm went off in the morning, it was Tony’s voice instead of their normal clock radio. “Good morning and happy birthday, Clint! Your party is today, and the theme is the eighties! You are expected in the family room at four PM. Costumes are encouraged but not mandatory. Good morning and happy birthday, Clint! Your party is - “ Phil slammed his hand down on the snooze button, shutting Tony up.

“If only it was that easy in real life,” Phil mumbled.

“Nah, you’d have no fun if it didn’t involve threatening to taze him,” Clint said as he stretched lazily. “Four, huh? Guess we’re not going for a big cocktail party-type thing, then.”

Phil rolled to face him. “Disappointed?”

“Oh, hell, no. You were right when you told him I’d run for the hills,” Clint said with a smile. “But I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next ten hours without going nuts.”

“I do,” Phil said, but there was an evil little grin that Clint decided immediately that he didn’t like the look of. “You owe me three mission reports and you’ve been ignoring my emails for the last week about them. Since I now know you have nowhere to be until this afternoon, you can get them done for me now.”

Yep, Clint had been right to hate that little smile. “I’m sure that I can find something else that needs to be done - maybe Natasha needs to spar,” he said.

“I’m fairly certain that the rest of the residents of the tower are going to be busy finalizing your birthday party, and while I know it’s cruel and unusual punishment to make you do paperwork _any_ day, much less your birthday, Tony made me promise to keep you out of the way. So, showers, breakfast, and then reports.”

Clint stuck his tongue out at Phil. “You are an evil, heartless man,” he said. “I’m going to restart the rumor about you being grown in a tank.”

Phil chuckled. “Oh, would you? It makes the junior agents so much more pliable when they think I’m not human.”

Clint thought rapidly over his options. He was fairly certain that he could disappear into the vents fast enough that Phil wouldn’t be able to catch him. And waiting quietly was no hardship. But then Phil would be pissy at the party and that wouldn’t be fun. And honestly (and secretly), sometimes he liked spending time quietly with Phil. They didn’t need to talk or even touch, necessarily. It was just the fact that Phil was _there_ that Clint liked.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But you’re making me pancakes first.”

Phil smiled, a real one, not one of his evil ones. “I think I can do that. You go shower while I get them started.” 

“We could shower together, save water,” Clint said with a cheesy leer.

“That would just postpone your breakfast,” Phil said, voice full of dreaded logic and determination.

“Party pooper.” Clint started to roll out of bed, only to stop when Phil cracked up.

Turning to look back at Phil, he waited for him to catch his breath. “I sure hope there’s none of that tonight,” Phil finally gasped out.

Clint gaped at him for a moment before grabbing a pillow and pummeling Phil with it. “And I’m bad for suggesting Miley jump out of a cake,” he grumbled. “At least I didn’t bring bodily functions into the conversation!”

Phil finally got enough control back to defend himself from the full pillow onslaught, and then grabbed it out of Clint’s hand. “You brought it on yourself,” he said. “Now shower, then breakfast.”

Still grumbling half-heartedly, Clint rolled completely out of bed and headed to the bathroom. Like everything else designed by Tony Stark, their bathroom was over-the-top, with a shower big enough for an actual orgy (Clint knew - there’d been a couple), as well as marble _everything_. This morning he just stood under a single shower head, washing himself and reassuring himself that at least it wasn’t going to be a party with two hundred celebrity guests. And worst case scenario, he could always hide behind Phil and his taser.

He finished his morning routine, stopping in the bedroom long enough to pull on sweatpants and a t-shirt, and then went out to the dining room. True to his word, Phil was in the kitchen, making pancakes and bacon, and Clint didn’t resist the urge to wrap himself around Phil’s back as he cooked, stealing bits of bacon off the platter until Phil smacked his hand with the spatula and pointed him towards the table where Clint’s computer was already set up and on, just waiting for his password.

Clint gave a heavy sigh but went to the table obediently, putting in his password and bringing up the first of the three overdue reports. “I don’t suppose putting, ‘Doom did it - he’s a dick’ would count as a report?” he asked as Phil carried over plates covered in food, the maple syrup and Mrs. Butterworth’s tucked up under his arm.

“No, and if you try to submit it that way, I’ll steal your bacon,” Phil threatened, setting everything down smoothly. He only shuddered a little when Clint grabbed the fake syrup, drowning everything on his plate in it. “I will never understand why you use that stuff when we have the real thing right here.”

This was a normal complaint, and Clint dealt with it as he normally did - ignoring it completely. It was one of his few good memories from his childhood and so he dug in, eating with gusto as he started picking at the computer keyboard, trying to fill in all the blanks on the first of the reports.

Over the next few hours, he wrote, and rewrote, and rewrote, until the reports sounded less like it was written by someone who was stoned out of their mind. It was harder than most people would believe, but when writing about attacks by giant hamsters, it was hard as hell. By the time the reports were done, dishes were washed, and a few other chores were completed, it was two in the afternoon. Clint was just thinking about suggesting taking a break and maybe getting up to something in the bedroom when the door chimed.

They looked at each other for a moment, and then Phil pushed back from the table, going to answer it. Clint returned his attention to shutting down his computer, only to be interrupted by Phil’s bark of laughter. Looking up, he saw that Dummy was at the door, an off kilter baseball hat on his ‘head’, holding a box.

Going over to join Phil at the door, he took the box off Dummy’s tray, and grinned as Dummy whistled his thanks and then rolled away. Looking down, he saw that the top of the box had ‘Costumes for the party’ written on it in Tony’s chicken scratch.

“Really, Tony?” Phil sighed. “What happened to ‘costumes are optional’?”

But when Clint took the box over to the couch to open it up, Phil followed along closely, standing next to him as Clint pulled out - _oh, god_ \- parachute pants in neon orange. A quick glance at the size, and Clint laughed, handing the pants off to Phil. “These are yours, I think.”

Clint got acid washed jeans and then there was a neon green t-shirt and polo shirts with popped collars. There were even pictures of hairstyles, helpfully labeled ‘80s dos for men’.

He couldn’t help it; he tossed the pictures and clothes back in the box, and then sat down on the couch, laughing hysterically. “Is there still time for you to rein them in? I don’t want to wear neon polyester!”

Phil was still holding the parachute pants with distaste. “If I have to wear these monstrosities, then so do you. I offered to rein them in weeks ago and you said that you could handle it - and face it, at least with a theme of the eighties, there will be no Miley Cyrus.”

“No, but there might be a grown up Punky Brewster,” Clint said mournfully. “I take it back - I can’t handle this.”

“Suck it up, Barton. At least it’s not a cocktail party.”

“I can give you something to suck, sir,” Clint said, laughing a little as he said it. 

“Not until after the party,” Phil said, with a shake of his head. “But if you’re good, I’ll give you a reward.”

Clint gave an overtheatrical sigh and said, “If I have to. I get first dibs on the bathroom, though.”

Phil shrugged, reached in the box, and pulled out the pictures of the hairdos and the bottle of gel. “You’re going to need the time. There’s no way to get my hair into any of these, but you have enough to at least make a good faith effort.”

Taking them with a sigh, Clint stood up, and leaned into Phil’s personal space. “A kiss before I go attempt to look like someone who doesn’t realize we’re in a new century?”

“Gladly.” Phil wrapped an arm around Clint’s shoulders, and leaned in to give him a deep and thorough kiss, one that only ended when Clint dropped the bottle of gel. “Okay,” Phil said, bending over to pick it up. “Go get started.”

“It better be a damn fine reward,” Clint grumbled as he took himself off to the bathroom. Wetting his hair down didn’t take long, and as several of the pictures showed the men having stubble, Clint didn’t bother to shave. He didn’t have enough hair for a mohawk, but several of the photos showed men with wildly spiked hair, so he applied a handful of gel and gave it his best effort, trying to get it to stand up more than it usually did. 

The gel seemed to do the trick, making the spikes more… spike-y, and Clint called it good after a few more minutes of fussing with it.

When he got to the bedroom, he found that Phil had laid out their outfits. For Phil, it was the parachute pants, with a green neon t-shirt, and blue neon high-tops. Clint was okay with the jeans, but - “Three polo shirts? Phil, come _on_. Let me wear just one. I’ll even let you pick the color.” He felt like this was plenty generous, as they were pink, purple, and red - all neon. 

Phil didn’t answer. He just picked up the parachute pants and held them out mutely. Of course, Clint didn’t need the words to know just how much Phil hated the outfit he was saddled with. “Oh, all right.” 

“Good. You get dressed while I go shower,” Phil said.

As Phil headed towards the bathroom, Clint pulled on a pair of boxer briefs, and then attempted to put on the jeans; except he’d forgotten just how tight everyone had worn their jeans in the 80s. They fit - barely - but you could see the outline of his briefs right through the denim.

Clint thought about saying “Fuck it,” and just not caring, but the legs of his briefs had rolled as he’d put on the jeans, and there was a sizeable welt around each of his thighs which looked really weird. When he thought about it, he realized that he’d worn tighty-whiteys in the eighties, so he hadn’t run into this problem before when wearing pants so tight he felt like his cock was going to strangle.

With a sigh, he wrestled the pants off and stripped out of his underwear. Dreading the feel of denim and zipper against his cock and balls, he fought the pants back on, only to be decidedly grateful that they were (relatively) soft inside, and that he didn’t feel like he was going to end up with rope burn on his dick. 

He grimaced as he picked up the polo shirts, trying to figure out which shirt should go on first. Then again, it was going to look hideous regardless, so he pulled on the red one, followed by purple, and then pink. It took him only a few moments to adjust the collars so that they were all standing up. 

Glancing across the room into the mirror by the coat closet, he blanched. God, it was a good thing that eighties fashion was dead, because this? This was scary levels of hideous.

His shoes were apparently the same orange as Phil’s pants, and bending over to put them on and lace them was a matter of holding his breath as the denim waistband cut into him. By the time Phil made it out of the bathroom, he was dressed, even if he felt stupid as hell. 

He held up his arms and spun in place, so that Phil could get a good look. “Well, what do you think?” 

“I think I’m going to kill Tony for this,” Phil said flatly. “Eighties fashion is dead for a reason.”

Clint couldn’t help the snort of laughter. “I was just thinking that,” he said.

Phil’s pants were loose enough that underwear wasn’t an issue for him, but the combinations of green and orange made him look kind of like a pumpkin. Clint tried to hide his grin behind his hand, but Phil just grimaced and said, “Let it out before you rupture something.”

At that, Clint started giggling and had a hard time stopping for several minutes. It wasn’t just Phil’s outfit, though. It was his own, it was the situation, it was nerves - it was everything coming to a head and pouring out of him. At least it was happening as laughter, and Phil seemed to realize that it was cathartic, if the way that he patted Clint on the back and said, “That’s it,” was any indication.

Clint finally wound down, and with one last snort, said, “Okay, I’m ready to face everyone now.”

“You sure?” Phil asked. He glanced at his watch and said, “You’ve got another twenty minutes before we’re due downstairs.”

“If I have to wait up here for twenty minutes, I’m burning these clothes and hiding under the bed,” Clint said in response. “They’ll just have to deal with us being early.”

“Okay,” Phil said. “Early it is.”

It only took them a couple of minutes to take the elevator to the common room where there were banners strung across the wall wishing Clint a ‘Happy Birthday’, bowls of snacks, a massive chocolate cake, and a washtub full of sodas and beer.

There weren’t any people however, and it made the situation a little creepy.

Before Clint could give in to the goosepimples on the back of his neck, though, the elevator dinged, letting out Bruce, Natasha, and Bucky. He decided that he wasn't surprised that Natasha and Bucky were dressed as goths, complete with the heavy makeup, but Bruce’s costume of a stereotypical geek, complete with tape on his glasses, pocket protector, and high water pants, was inspired.

Greetings and kisses were exchanged, but Clint couldn’t help watching the elevator, wondering who would be next and what they’d be wearing. When it opened to show Steve and Sam, he was not disappointed; they were dressed in perfect imitations of the Miami Vice television show, complete with pink and white suits.

Steve took one look at Phil and his eyes opened wide. “Let me guess - Tony didn’t give you any options.”

“Not really, no.” Phil’s eyes traveled over Steve’s pink clad body, complete with pastel boat shoes, and then back up. “Did he give you one?”

“No,” Steve snorted. “Still better than tights, though.”

Bucky chuckled from behind Steve where he was busy kissing Sam, getting his black lipstick all over Sam’s face. “Hey, those tights were pretty sexy, especially with the booty shorts,” he said.

Steve rolled his eyes, but whatever he was thinking about saying was cut off by the elevator dinging again. This time it was Thor, Jane, and Darcy. Thor’s hair was teased a mile high, and he was wearing skin-tight spandex, looking like he’d walked right off a hairband album cover. Jane was clearly a groupie, in a flimsy white dress that was just a little too short.

Darcy. Well, Darcy was dressed like Madonna from her ‘Like a Virgin’ years. She bounced up to Clint, and when Darcy bounced, she _bounced_. Clint wondered if one of these days she was going to put an eye out. “Happy birthday, Clint,” she said, leaning in and giving him a quick kiss. He couldn’t let that stand, and reeled her back in, giving her another that was much deeper and longer lasting, making both of them pant for air by the time it was done.

The elevator opening one last time drew Clint’s attention, and when he looked over, he couldn’t help it. He cracked up. Tony was wearing a wig - a _mullet_ \- and a denim outfit that wouldn’t have looked out of place on MacGyver. “Playing to type, Tony?”

“Why not?” Tony stepped out, with Pepper right behind him.

Pepper’s hair was teased even higher than Thor’s, and she was the epitome of a Valley Girl. Clint swore silently that if she said “like” more than three times in a sentence, he was going to check for a skrull.

Tony clapped his hands together and grinned. “So it looks like the gang’s all here. First things first - everyone needs drinks! We’re going to drink our way through Labyrinth.” Steve started to open his mouth, and Tony cut him off, “Way ahead of you, Cap - Thor brought mead for the two of you. No fun if you’re not buzzing with the rest of us!”

“Labyrinth, really?” Clint asked.

“Can you think of anything that symbolizes the eighties better than David Bowie’s crotch in tights?” Tony asked.

Surprisingly, though, Tony wasn’t moving to the actual bar. Instead, he was handing out beers to everyone. Good beer, but still, beer. “I take it the actual goal is not to get totally trashed if we’re not having the hard stuff,” Clint said.

“Nope. We have _plans_. Everyone agreed, no drunken shenanigans, just mild buzzes.”

“All right then,” Phil said. “Care to fill us in on the rules for the game?”

“Sure.” Tony whipped out a sheet of paper from his back pocket as everyone took their beers and settled down on the couches around the TV. “You drink once if someone whines, if Sarah says something isn’t fair, or if we get a shot of Bowie’s crotch.”

Steve’s hand went up into the air, and Tony waved him off. “You’ll know it when you see it, Cap.” Steve gave a shrug and lowered it back down. “You drink twice when Bowie plays with his balls - crystal ones, that is - , there are baby noises, we get a look at a clock, or an inanimate object turns out to be alive.”

“Three drinks if a creature is nice, Hoggle is a dick - “

“We’re going to be drunk even just with beer,” Clint muttered quietly.

“ - or if there’s a song. And when they dance the magic dance, you have to finish your drink.”

"Sounds simple enough," Phil said, and with various murmurs of agreement, they moved towards the TV pit, filling in the sofas. Clint couldn't sprawl the way he normally did - not if he wanted to keep breathing in these pants - but with the way that the whole group filled the area, he was assured of getting all the contact he wanted.

Once everyone was in place, drinks in hand, JARVIS lowered the lights, and the movie began to roll across the giant screen.

Clint had forgotten how much he liked this movie; most of the special effects were cheesy, and yeah, Sarah liked to whine, but it was still entertaining. And with Tony calling out "Drink!" every few minutes, by the end of the movie he was pretty buzzed.

The lights came up slowly, and as Clint looked around, he could tell he wasn't the only one feeling the effects of the amount of beer they'd drunk over the course of the movie. No one looked _drunk_ , just very relaxed.

Everyone started to move around, several people heading over to the table to munch on a few snacks, or grab a soda, while Tony and Steve were occupied rearranging the furniture in the pit. No one besides Clint and Phil even looked curious which meant they knew what the plan was. 

Clint sidled up next to Natasha and nudged her with his arm. "So, what's next?" he asked.

She gave him one of her mysterious smiles. "And ruin Tony's fun? You're just going to have to wait a few minutes."

Just then, JARVIS announced that there was pizza at the door, and Thor went to answer it, returning with a stack of pizzas that probably only he or Steve could lift. They were set down on the table, and everyone dove in, grabbing pieces of their favorites and eating with enthusiasm. 

The pizza soaked up some of the beer, bringing everyone back to a less-buzzed state, but since Clint was surrounded by his favorite people on the planet, that was just fine. By the time the pizza was reduced to just a few slices, everyone started to move back over to the seating area. The couches were now in a square, with a table in the middle. The only thing on top of the table was a large bottle of lube, and it didn't take Clint long to put two and two together. "We're playing Spin the Bottle?" he asked with a grin.

"With a slight modification to the rules," Tony said. "The only one spinning the bottle tonight is _you_. Whoever it lands on, you get three minutes to do whatever you like - kiss, fondle, hell, ask about the weather. JARVIS will keep time."

"Wait - what if the other person doesn't want what I want?" Clint asked.

Several people giggled, and Tony threw his arms wide. "Is there anyone in this room who one, hasn't already slept with Clint, and two, wouldn't be perfectly willing to be mauled by him again? If so, there's the door, don't let me hold you back."

Everyone laughed as Clint rolled his eyes and settled in the seat in front of the bottle. “Point taken,” he said, grabbing the bottle and tossing it in the air a few times.

“What are you waiting for?” Tony asked. “We’re all here, we’re all braced, spin the damn thing!”

“All right already,” Clint said, putting the bottle back on the table and giving it a good hard spin. It spun around its axis about three times before coming to a stop pointed right at Natasha.

Everyone laughed again, and Clint found himself blushing as he hauled himself up and made his way over to where Natasha was sitting. He thought for a moment about not jumping right into it, but this was _Natasha_ , and he was never going to turn down a good kiss from her. So he pulled her to her feet, tilted his head, and went for the wettest, _nastiest_ kiss he could give.

Within seconds it was clear that Natasha was as into it as he was, because there was no mistaking her hands on his chest, her nails scratching even through the three polo shirts. Her mouth was wet and tasted like pizza and beer, and Clint remembered when it had been him and her. While he wouldn’t give up Phil without a fight, it had been good when he and Natasha had been together.

When JARVIS said, “Time, Agent Barton,” stopping was the last thing on his mind. But Bucky reached out and swatted him on his ass, and fuck, that _hurt_ with that damn metal arm. 

“Fine,” he said, letting go of Natasha (and when had he put his hands on her ass, anyway?) and turned back to the table. There was no point in returning to his seat, since he was just going to have to get up again in a second.

Phil rolled the bottle across the table to him, and he gave it a quick spin. It must have been harder this time, because it went around about six or seven times before stopped pointing at Sam.

Sam was already standing before Clint got to him. For a moment Clint hesitated - he’d slept with Sam before, but only as part of a threesome with Steve - before saying “Fuck it,” and leaning in to give him a kiss just as nasty as the one that he’d given Natasha. Sam made a startled sound into his mouth, as if he hadn’t expected Clint to be that enthusiastic, but he certainly wasn’t holding back.

This time it was _Sam’s_ hands on _Clint’s_ ass pulling them tightly together and giving Clint just enough friction to be a fucking tease. When JARVIS announced that the three minutes was up, Clint very deliberately ignored him, only to be hit in the back of the head with something cold and wet.

Pulling away and twisting around, he saw Tony brandishing a fucking _water gun_. “Did I forget to mention the penalty for ignoring the time?” Tony asked, not even attempting to look innocent. “My bad.”

“I’m going to get you for this,” Clint growled but he reached for the damn bottle and spun it again. This time it barely made it around once before pointing right at Jane.

Tired of climbing over people’s legs, Clint decided to take the direct route: climbing on top of the table and walking across it to where Jane was sitting on Thor’s knee. Thor stood up with her, whispering in her ear as Clint approached and she laughed out loud. Before Clint could lean in to kiss her, she grabbed the hem of her short white dress and yanked it off over her head, leaving her there in bra and panties. It took Clint several seconds for his brain to reboot, but when it finally did, he bent down and buried his face between her gorgeous breasts.

Her laughter died down to a soft groan as he reached behind her to undo her bra, moving to take her nipple in his mouth as it was revealed. He made the best use of the time available, sucking each nipple in turn and fingering the one not currently in his mouth, so that by the time JARVIS announced that his time was up, she was gasping and whimpering.

Before he lifted his head, he gave the nipple in his mouth a sharp nip, just hard enough to make her cry out. Then he gently pushed her back into Thor, who wrapped his arms around her and took over where Clint left off.

This had the makings of an orgy. Very good.

“Sam,” Clint said, holding up his hand. “Toss me the bottle.”

Sam broke off from where he was kissing Steve to toss the bottle across the table to Clint, and then went right back to trying to learn Steve’s tonsils with his tongue.

Clint couldn’t help but laugh when the bottle ended pointed towards the two of them. He’d already kissed Sam, so Steve it was. This time he carried the bottle with him as he crossed the table, and stood in front of the two of them until Steve broke it off, realizing that Clint was standing there. “Uh…” Steve said. “My turn?”

“Yeah, but you can keep kissing Sam. Just stand up for a minute, both of you.” 

Steve looked confused, but Sam was positively leering as he pulled Steve to his feet. There was enough room between the two of them and the table for Clint to sink to his knees, which he did as he undid the button and zip on Steve’s pants.

Steve’s cock, already hard and leaking, practically leapt into Clint’s hand, and Clint gave it one good stroke before pulling it down a little and sucking the head into his mouth.

Three minutes was no one’s idea of sufficient time for a good blow job, so Clint didn’t even try to get Steve off. He just licked and nipped and sucked, doing his damndest to make sure that when JARVIS called time, Steve would be dying for more.

Steve’s hand clenched in Clint’s hair and his hips jerked forward when Clint sucked hard. Thankfully, Clint was prepared, and pulled back just in time to not get choked. He would have done it again but JARVIS announced, “Time,” and Clint pulled away.

As he climbed to his feet, he had to adjust himself in his pants. They were already uncomfortably tight to start with and adding a hard on was doing him no favors. He was seriously ready for this game to be over and for him to just get fucked by as many people as possible, but when he glanced over at Phil, Phil grinned and nodded towards the bottle on the table.

With a silent sigh, he spun the bottle hard and fast, only to stop midway between pointing at Natasha and Bruce. “So how do we decide?” he asked, turning to Tony.

“JARVIS, who’s the lucky winner?”

JARVIS’s calm voice said, “By three degrees, it goes to Dr. Banner.”

“Good enough for me,” Clint replied, grabbing the bottle and sliding around the table towards where Natasha, Bucky, and Bruce sat. When he got there, he turned to face Tony again. “Anything I want, right?”

“Yep,” Tony answered. “You know us all well enough that we know you’re not going to ask us to do something gross.”

Clint grinned at that and turned back to Bruce. “How about _you_ blow _me_?” Clint asked.

“Sure.” Bruce sounded downright eager, hands already reaching for the fly of his pants. His hands and Clint’s tangled for a minute, and then Clint pushed down the waist, letting his hard cock out of the stranglehold that the skin-tight jeans had had him in.

With Bruce sitting on the couch and Clint standing, they were right about the right height for this. Bruce only needed to bend over a little to get his mouth on Clint’s cock. At the first touch of Bruce’s wet tongue to the head, Clint groaned. Playing spin the bottle so far had been fun, but it was also the worst fucking tease ever.

Bruce wasn’t the most skilled at blowjobs, but he more than made up with it in enthusiasm, sucking Clint soft, wet, and sloppy, and when JARVIS called time, he pulled off slowly… slowly enough, in fact, that Clint got hit with the water pistol again. 

“Hey! Blame Bruce, not me,” Clint protested, but Tony just smirked.

“You asked him to suck you. Your responsibility to get him to stop when it’s time.”

Clint snorted. “When it’s your turn, you’re so going to get it,” he said.

Tony made a gesture, clearing meaning for Clint to bring it. Clint started to pull up his pants, but when his erection made it impossible to get his jeans zippered again, he decided to not bother. Shoving them down to his knees, he sat down on the table long enough to undo his shoes, and then kicked the whole mess off, leaving him in just the three polo shirts.

While he didn’t usually care if he looked stupid, this level of stupid was unacceptable, so he yanked the polo shirts off as well, leaving himself naked and hard. He dropped a hand to his cock, giving himself one slow stroke, only to be hit in the back by that damn water pistol again, and this time there was no cloth in the way.

He picked up the bottle and contemplated squirting lube at Tony, but figured that would just be a waste of the good stuff. Instead, he gestured around the room. “Me and Jane shouldn’t be the only ones lacking clothes, guys,” he said.

From across the room, Phil muttered “Agreed,” and started to strip out of his neon atrocities. That seemed to get everyone moving, and within five minutes the whole room was naked, and there was a fair amount of groping going on. Clint thought about just grabbing a bit of flesh himself but he didn’t want to be shot again with the water pistol, so he set the bottle down and spun it. It went around once, twice, and the third time was pointing right back at Bruce.

“More blowjob?” Bruce asked with a grin.

“Never going to hear me say no,” Clint said, and Bruce brought his mouth back into play, this time focusing his attention on the head of Clint’s cock, sucking and licking and even giving the occasional nip. Clint groaned at the soft heat of Bruce’s mouth, and could have cried when JARVIS announced that time was up, because he _really_ wanted to come.

When he spun the bottle this time, there was no question that it was pointing right at Darcy, who squealed and bounced on the sofa as Clint headed towards her. “What’ll it be?” Darcy asked when he got there.

He dropped to his knees, grabbed her behind the knees and pulled her so that her ass was right on the edge of the couch, her gorgeous pussy on display. This close, he could smell her, the wet heat of her, and he dove right in, giving her a quick lick up the folds of her pussy before focusing his tongue on her clit, licking her fast and hard.

She cried out, her hands dropping to his head and her legs spreading wider, giving him more access. He took the advantage to slide two fingers inside, pressing hard on her g spot as he continued to suck her clit. She cried out, clenching tight around his fingers, and Clint could tell that she was getting close. Darcy was always fast off the mark, maybe he’d have enough time -

“That’s three minutes,” JARVIS announced, and as Clint pulled away reluctantly, Darcy whined in frustration. Clint had barely moved back more than a few inches before Darcy’s fingers were on her clit, rubbing frantically. Her moans grew sharper as she got closer to her orgasm, and as Clint watched, enjoying the show, she brought herself off. 

He paused for a moment more, to see if she was going to go for round two, only standing up when her hand moved to her side and she wiggled her way back up to a sitting position.

Clint grabbed the bottle, fumbling a little with it until he could get a good grip on it. He thought for a moment about throwing the bottle at Tony’s head and then begging Phil to fuck him, but the way everyone was pausing in their making out with the nearest warm body to see who was next told him that not everyone was frustrated with the game yet.

He placed the bottle back on the table and spun it again, only to have it go a little more than once around and point at Thor and Jane who were making out energetically. They were so intertwined that he couldn't even begin to tell who it was actually pointing at, so he looked up at the ceiling and asked, "JARVIS?"

"It's two percent closer to Doctor Foster," JARVIS responded helpfully.

"Thanks, J," Clint said, making his way over the table to where they sat, intertwined. He halfway expected Thor to be reluctant to release his grip on Jane, but by the time he got to them, Thor had set her on her feet. Clint decided to ignore the fact that she was more than a little wobbly - especially since he was as well. He was so horny at this point he was pretty sure he could pound nails with his dick.

"Back again, huh?" Jane asked.

"You know me-- can't stay away," Clint responded. "Ready?"

"Do your worst," she said, grinning.

He wrapped one arm around her back, pulling her in for a deep kiss, while his other hand slipped down and between her folds, seeking out her clit and rubbing it gently, making her squeak and whimper into his mouth. She was sopping wet, so wet that his fingers slid into her with barely any effort. 

By the time JARVIS announced the time was up, Jane was barely on her feet, primarily being held up by Clint's arm around her, and as soon as he released her, she sank back down into Thor's arms, his hand taking over where Clint had left off. Clint couldn't help but stand and watch as Thor took her apart, efficiently and quickly.

Clint turned to look at Phil pleadingly, only to have Phil grin and gesture as if he was the one spinning the bottle. Everyone except for Phil had hands and mouths all over the person closest to them, and even though Clint was the guest of honor, this fucking three minute limit was enough to make him feel left out. He decided that he was going to end this once and for all, and then he was going to get fucked come hell or high water. Paying much more attention than he had previously, he grabbed the bottle and spun it carefully, more than satisfied when it ended up pointing directly at Tony.

"Yay!" Tony cried. "About fucking time. I was beginning to think I was never going to get a turn."

"You may not be saying that in three minutes," Clint muttered, once again crossing over top of the table. He got to where Tony sat, and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him up on his feet. Before Tony could go in for the kiss he was obviously expecting, Clint turned him around, bent him over so that his hands were on the sofa cushion, and landed a firm slap on his ass. 

"Holy fuck," Tony gasped, his hips bucking into empty air. "About time we got to something like this."

"I'm going to spank you till you can't talk," Clint said, landing another smack, and then another, and another. By the time three minutes was up, Tony's ass was nicely red and he was squirming under Clint's touch. He certainly wasn't being a smart ass any more, which was all good with Clint.

He knew he couldn’t take another minute of this game that had become more of a tease than anything else, so instead of spinning the bottle, he cracked it open and slicked up his fingers. Lifting one foot so that it was propped on the table, he reached back and slid a finger inside of himself. "I declare this game over," he said. "And I'm the winner, so I get to choose my prize."

"But there are some of us who have not yet been selected by the bottle," Thor said, looking disappointed.

"And that's what's so great about my prize," Clint said. "My prize is anyone who hasn't already had a turn gets to fuck me. So that means Bucky, Thor, Pepper, and Phil."

"And what are the rest of us supposed to do while you're getting banged?" Tony asked, clearly pouting. 

"There's seven of you and everyone is naked," Clint said. "I'm pretty sure you can figure it out."

"True. Well, birthday boy, who do you want first?" Tony smirked at him.

Clint was tempted to say Phil and let everyone else get on without him, but he swallowed that urge down and said, "I'm going to fuck Pepper. And then I'm going to take on Thor, Bucky, and Phil all at once."

"I like a man who knows what he wants," Bucky said, his hand in his lap, stroking his erection.

"And what I want right now is to get fucked," Clint agreed. Turning to Pepper, he held out a hand. "Is my plan okay with you?"

"More than," Pepper said eagerly. "How would you like me?"

"Well, if Tony would move, I could fuck you right there on the sofa."

"Don't I get any say in this?" Tony asked.

Clint turned pitying eyes on him. "If you thought this would end in any way but me getting fucked thoroughly, I have to wonder about your intelligence."

"Well, I planned on you getting fucked. I just thought we'd all get a turn at spin the bottle first."

"I can't take another minute of being timed," Clint said. "Now move your ass so that I can fuck the lovely lady."

"Bossy, bossy, bossy," Tony said, but he was grinning and moving around to the sofa that Darcy, Thor, and Jane were sitting on. "I guess it's your birthday, though, so we'll allow it."

"Thanks for your generosity," Clint said, and then turned his attention to Pepper who had swung around sideways but was still sitting up. Clint sat down on the sofa, turning to face her, and then gently pushing till she was lying down with Clint propped on top of her. 

Bending down, he kissed her thoroughly, balancing on one arm so that the other hand could slide down and he could push two fingers into her. She wasn't quite as wet as Jane, but she was still pretty slick. Just for the hell of it, though, he fingered her for a minute, until she was as red as her hair, panting and moaning. 

"Okay?" he asked, so horny he felt like he could just hump her leg and be happy about it.

"What are you still waiting for?" Pepper asked, and Clint decided that she was right -- there was no reason to wait any longer. He pulled his fingers out and knelt up, pulling her ass into his lap, and carefully lined up his cock with her pussy, pushing in slowly. At the same time, he made sure to rub her clit with his thumb, loving the way that she squirmed below him, trying to push up into the slow thrust.

“Come on, Clint,” she panted. “I know you can go faster than that.”

“Hey, I’m the one who’s been blue balled a bunch of times tonight. I think I should get to take my time,” he answered.

“Yeah, but do you actually want to?” There was definite mischief on her face as she clenched tight around his cock, and all he could do was groan and push in as deep as he could get. 

“You are evil,” he said, but she clenched again, and that broke most of his self control. He told himself that he wasn’t going to come inside of Pepper, that he was going to hold out to the end for that, but he was definitely going to make _her_ come.

He resisted the urge to just pound into her hard and fast, and kept a steady rhythm, timed with his thumb on her clit. She was hot and wet and tight around his cock, making him groan and bite his lip at the fucking amazing sensations coursing through him.

Below him, Pepper whimpered and squirmed, alternating between arching up into his thumb and pulling back like the sensation was almost too much. Clint knew that that meant she was getting close, and shifted his hand so that he was rubbing on either side of her clit instead of directly on it, speeding his strokes just enough to pull a hoarse cry from her throat. “Fuck,” she moaned, her hands running over his back and shoulders, scratching at his skin. “Just like that.”

“C’mon, Pepper,” he said. “I know you want to come. Don’t you want to give it up?”

“So close,” she whimpered, and Clint sped up, just a little, just enough, and suddenly she was groaning, her pussy soaking wet and clenching around him in arrhythmic little twitches that nearly pulled him over the edge as well. Her roaming hands wrapped more firmly around his shoulders, pulling him forward and down, so that their lips could meet in a deep and dirty kiss, Pepper panting against his lips.

As the kiss ended, he slowly, reluctantly, pulled out of her, only to have her pounced enthusiastically by Tony. A quick look around showed him that everyone was busy either making out or screwing - except for Phil, Bucky, and Thor. 

The trio were in deep conversation on one of the couches, only looking up when Clint crossed over the table to them, and stood right in front of Phil. He absently noticed that someone had brought over the bottle of lube, and it was on the table in front of them.

Phil looked up at him and grinned, lust and love so obvious in his expression that Clint could barely keep from melting to the floor. “Do you have a plan for how you’re going to take the three of us, Clint? Because if you don’t, we have some ideas.”

“I have lots of ideas. But my primary goal is to get fucked and finally get to come, so I’m more than willing to entertain any of yours.” 

Phil shot to his feet, wrapping his arms around Clint, and pulled him into a deep kiss, while using a baby wipe to clean his cock. Clint returned the kiss happily, only to start when someone - Bucky, he realized - slid a slick finger into his hole. From behind him, Bucky said, “First thing, we need to open you up more.”

Clint groaned, spreading his legs wider so that Bucky could add a second finger while he kissed Phil like he was air and Clint was suffocating. The feeling of being opened, the knowledge that he was going to be fucked by three men who he cared for, who cared about him enough to go through with silly costumes and sillier teenage games, was overwhelming. He grabbed Phil by the upper arms, pulling him closer. He knew he was probably leaving bruises, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

When Bucky added a third finger, Clint couldn’t stand it anymore. Breaking away from Phil, he gritted out, “Now. I need to be fucked _now_. No more fingers, no more prep, no more teasing.”

“Okay,” Phil said, his voice soothing. Bucky pulled his fingers out of Clint’s hole and then Phil was backing him up. Clint found himself straddling Thor’s thighs, and his first thought was that it was probably a good thing that he’d managed to hold out as long as he did for the prep, because Phil was still guiding him, helping him get centered over Thor’s cock.

Clint slowly slid down, taking Thor’s cock in short, little, jerky strokes, because while he didn’t normally need a lot of prep, he didn’t normally get fucked by a fertility god, either. Finally, he was sitting in Thor’s lap, Thor’s cock buried in him deep. 

Thor wrapped his arms around Clint’s midsection, giving him something to grip, and Clint started to push himself up, only to find himself restrained. “Wait, Clint,” Thor rumbled in his ear. “Be patient for a few more moments.”

It took everything he had not to struggle, to force the issue, but he was rewarded quickly by Bucky turning so his back was to Clint, and then straddling both him _and_ Thor. Clint’s cock was disappearing inside Bucky’s ass, and fuck, this was going to _kill_ him, if by some miracle he didn’t come in the next thirty seconds.

As Bucky settled into place, Clint startled to struggle again, trying to get some motion going, only to have the sofa shift next to him. When he looked over, Phil was standing next to them, his hard cock _right there_ and Clint didn’t even need a hint to know that he should open his mouth.

As soon as he did, it all started to happen all at once. Bucky lifted up, and as Clint followed him up, so did Thor; as Bucky sank back down, so did Clint. Phil’s cock slid into Clint’s mouth, and the taste made him groan even as Bucky and Thor continued to move.

He was overwhelmed by sensation, overtaken by it, and all he could do was go along for the ride as he was being taken, _fucked_. It was so much all at once that his body almost couldn’t handle it all, and for a few moments it was enough to actually pull him back off the precipice.

And then his body realized exactly how much stimulation he was getting, and it was all he could do not to come in a split second. One of his hands dug into Thor’s thigh as he tried to hold it off by the tips of his fingers. It was good, it was _so_ good, and he never wanted it to end; at the same time that he didn’t think he could take much more. 

Then Phil’s hands wrapped around Clint’s head, holding him steady so that Phil could fuck his mouth, and Clint realized that Phil was just as close, just from watching Clint make out with all of their friends. He was going to come, he was going to come down Clint’s throat, and Clint was going to swallow it; he could hold off his own orgasm for that, he _could_ , and then Phil was groaning and his come was in Clint’s mouth and Clint was swallowing as fast he could, not wanting to miss a single drop.

When Phil pulled back with a long sigh, Clint managed to get one last kiss in on the tip of his cock, before his attention was yanked back to Bucky and Thor, to fucking and being fucked. All three of them were panting like horses, Bucky making a little whine on each exhale, Thor groaning each time he was all the way inside Clint. And then Clint realized that he was whimpering almost constantly.

He wasn’t going to be the next to come, he wasn’t going to leave Bucky high and dry like that, so he reached forward and wrapped his fist around Bucky’s cock, giving it a tight squeeze. Bucky gave a sharp buck of his hips, along with a loud yell, and then he was moving faster, up into Clint’s hand, back onto his cock. Each time he came down hard on Clint, he forced Clint down, so that he was taking Thor even deeper. 

Phil was saying something, Thor was saying something, but all Clint could focus on right now was his hand around Bucky’s cock as he stroked it furiously, desperate to make Bucky come so he could let go of his own control.

One of Bucky’s hands wrapped around Clint’s, squeezing a little tighter, and then he gave a long, drawn out groan as he came over both of their hands. There was a pause in the motion of his hips, and then he started to move again.

Clint couldn’t hold back anymore. Thor could keep fucking him after he came if he needed to, but Clint was going to come, he was going to come _so hard_ , he was going to come _right now_. He clenched around Thor at the same time that he pulled Bucky down hard, and with a harsh cry he came so hard that he lost track of what was happening as the orgasm ripped wave after wave of pleasure through him.

By the time he was back in his own head, Bucky had slid off of him, and was standing on what were clearly wobbly legs. Clint was as limp as a noodle in Thor’s arms, and it took energy he really didn’t have to start to move again so that Thor could come.

Thankfully, Thor must have been close as well, because he bit down on Clint’s shoulder and gave a muffled grunt at the same time that his hips bucked hard. Clint could feel the sudden increase in wetness that was Thor filling him with his release.

It took Thor a minute to release his grip on Clint, but when he did, Phil was there to help him stand on his own wobbly legs. When he looked around the room, he saw that everyone was either actively engaged in sex or obviously post-coital. He suspected that he should stay until everyone was up and about again, say thanks for the party and all that stuff, but all he wanted was his bed and Phil.

He really didn’t know if them leaving would be just a little rude, or a massive insult, so he leaned into Phil and asked, “Can we go now? Or do we have to stay?”

Phil smiled and took Clint’s hand in his own. “We can go. You look about ready to fall over.”

“I am,” Clint admitted. Raising his voice, he said, “Okay, folks, Phil says it’s not unbearably rude for me to leave now, so I’m going to say that this party was awesome and I will thank you properly for it tomorrow. Right now we’re going back to our apartment so I can sleep. But this was the best birthday _ever_.”

Everyone paused in what they were doing long enough to acknowledge Clint, and Tony untangled himself from cuddling with Pepper to come over and give Clint a hug. “Happy birthday, Clint,” he said. “I’m already planning for next year.”

Clint couldn’t even pretend that that didn’t make him grin. “Looking forward to it.”

With murmurs of “Good night” and “Happy birthday, Clint!” Clint and Phil made their way out of the room and over to the elevator. It was a quick trip down to their apartment, and while Clint knew he really should shower before bed, he decided not to worry about it. He just cleaned up quickly in the bathroom and then climbed into bed, where Phil was already waiting for him. 

“Good birthday?” Phil asked.

“The best,” Clint said, already half asleep. “Best part was you, though.”

Clint could hear the smile in Phil’s voice when he said, “No, the best thing about your birthday was _you_.” He was asleep before he could argue.


End file.
